The Original Initiative
by Lou-deadfroggy
Summary: Patching up the holes Loki left isn't simple, Natasha has to deal with her new roles as Avengers and head of the fragile trio Coulson nurtured as well as a growing suspicion that Banner was right: Fury doesn't tell her everything. Immediately she is sent out to finish what Coulson started: the original Avengers Initiative. The ideal team however, isn't built on stable foundations.
1. 1 Natasha

**The Original Initiative**

**Stark Tower, two months after the battle of New York.**

**Natasha** stepped out of the lift, taking in the newly redecorated living room in one glance. Stark had done well, there was no sign Loki had ever been there, unless you looked out of the window at the widespread destruction New Yorkers were still dealing with. Up in the clouds, it was as if nothing had ever gone wrong.

"Polite people knock," Stark protested from the bar, his glass half raised. Natasha had informed Jarvis of their arrival, which was as good as knocking.

"No Banner?" she asked, ignoring his stare. It wasn't aimed at her but rather at the brunette behind her.

"Don't ask things you know the answer to, it wastes my time," replied Stark. "Who's this?" Natasha poked a decidedly Pepper style pot plant to check that if it was plastic or just incredibly shiny. It turned out to be real.

"Don't ask things you know the answer to," she shot back as she sat down on Stark's far too squishy sofa. "Stark, Agent Mede." She watched as he wandered over, turning on the charm he didn't bother using on her. For a moment Natasha was unsure about how wise it was to have the supervision of the Avengers in her temporary absence given to Mede, the smother hen instincts Coulson had drilled into her concerning her SHIELD litter-mates getting the better of her.

"So, is being hot a requirement for being a top agent or does Fury only send the pretty ones?" Natasha rolled her eyes but still fixed Stark with a cold glare.

"I'll inform Agent Barton of that," a cool English voice informed Stark, not giving away a single hint of humour. Natasha had to relax, reminded that Clint would be there, and Mede could take care of herself. Who knew, by the time her mission was over Stark could have been taken down a few pegs from his absurdly high spot.

"She's funny, I like her," announced Stark. "She can stay." The five top floors of Stark Tower, still hovering between being rebuilt with Stark atop it or rechristened the Avengers' Tower, were now given over to the team. It was a ridiculous amount of space for them, considering the Captain was living in a flat in Brooklyn redone to make him feel more at home, Thor had returned to Asgard with his brother captive and Bruce wandered in and out, uncomfortable around the masses in the city but not really wanting to leave either. Natasha refused to live under Stark's roof, preferring the base to his antics, but Clint had been told explicitly by Fury to stay away from those who were fighting for the chance to take him apart and examine what Loki left behind. So, five floors for the genius billionaire playboy philanthropist, an occasional super soldier, doctor and spy, and a reclusive mentally unstable archer. The top of the tower was a pretty empty place.

"There's an empty room next to yours," Stark added. "You can show her around, I'm busy being me." Already the bar and sketch tablet had his attention.

"Come on." Natasha beckoned Mede to follow her down the corridor, out of Stark's earshot.

"Well he seems, interesting," Mede murmured. Natasha didn't think it would matter much what Stark thought of his replacement spy, Mede wouldn't be around him long enough. A few weeks, at most, then the mission would be over and Natasha would be back. It had been Fury's idea to send the third and final member of Coulson's top band to take over as babysitter to the Avengers whilst Natasha was gone. She preferred it to Mede being stuck at the base, caught in a silent grief she wasn't sharing with anyone, not even her teammates. At least at the tower Clint could keep an eye on her- well, be around, even if he was the one Natasha was most worried about.

It took two minutes and fewer words for Natasha to show Mede around. The kitchen, Clint's room, and then the spare bedroom Stark had specified. Mede dropped her duffle bag on the bed and proceeded to do the automatic check for traps, bugs or other dangers.

"Stark's clean," Natasha told her, but let her do it anyway. "You're here in case Fury needs to contact the team and to keep an eye on Clint."

"I know, Tasha, I was listening." They looked up simultaneously as Clint appeared in the doorway.

"Juliette." Relief covered the archer's features; Natasha knew that he had been worried someone else would be sent. Someone less understanding. Someone who wasn't on their side. Instead Mede let him do the awkward guy thing where he half slapped her shoulder and made a show of not hugging her, all whilst looking at his face for the same tell-tale signs of depression or something else that Natasha looked for every time she saw Barton.

Three peas in a pod, the three of them under Coulson's care. Without him, even the cold Black Widow was a little lost. Regimes rose and fell but people died, and that hurt more.

"When do you abandon me to the madhouse then?" Juliette asked. Again Natasha's doubts about leaving her two unstable and upset partners along with Stark came back.

"An hour." She had given herself one hour to get Juliette settled in and introduced before she had to leave. One hour to make up for the lack of time they had spent together in the last two months. Natasha knew Coulson would have wanted her to make more of an effort, to be there for Juliette and Clint, but she had avoided the brunette at first thinking she would be faced with tears or other signs of grief. Instead, Juliette carried on as if nothing had happened, a cold face to rival the Black Widow. When Phil was mentioned she nodded stiffly, and began to talk about the weather. So Natasha's time had been taken up with trying to get a straight answer out of Clint and keeping Rogers and Stark from each other's throats. The threat gone, the Avengers had threatened to fall apart completely, Thor was gone and Banner looked set to vanish again. It was a miracle that Stark had persuaded him, tentatively, to sort of stay.

"Great, you can show me where they keep the tea." Juliette managed to get the first half smile Natasha had seen Clint give since the incident. Her doubts lingered, but as they began their age old argument of tea versus coffee, they lessened somewhat. The Black Widow would never say that she envied their easy banter. It wasn't the time to try and integrate, not when she had to be the leader now, she had to step up and fill Coulson's shoes. They would get a new handler, they were too volatile to be left alone, of that she was certain. Now Juliette was with the Avengers too, splitting them up looked reassuringly unlikely. Coulson had proved that they worked as a trio; Fury wouldn't break his pets up.

Clint gave Juliette a better tour than Natasha had, including the kettle and tiny box of what she declared was unsatisfactory brown power bags that was supposed to be tea. To Juliette's further chagrin Stark didn't have digestive biscuits either. Natasha didn't have to go through the bag on the bed to know that there was a packet of Tetley's tea bags stashed away at the bottom. She made a mental note to find somewhere that stocked British biscuits. When things got tough Juliette looked for a punch bag, then a kettle. Natasha couldn't remember the last conversation she had tried to have with her partner about their late handler in which Juliette hadn't avoided answering by getting two mugs and some tea bags out.

"What do you think of the great Tony Stark then?" Clint asked as they retreated out of anyone's way, Juliette with a mug of the brown liquid she had to settle for temporarily and Clint with a coffee, into Clint's room. There they took up their usual places, as if they were back at base and Coulson about to walk in. Of course the room was twice the size of anything they'd ever had before, and this time Phil wouldn't walk in, telling them where they were meant to be. Natasha stood against the wall, opposite Juliette folded up on the floor and Clint cross legged on the bed. It could have been a still taken from any day of the last three years, the three of them like that. The rug had been pulled out from under them, yet nothing had changed.

"I've known goldfish with longer attention spans, and Tasha doesn't like where he looked." Natasha glared silently at Juliette for that. Stark had more vices than were good for him, especially around women trained to kill when people were looking at them like that.

Clint gave her a raised eyebrow which Natasha ignored. No, she didn't like the way Stark's immediate thoughts played out across his face, any more than Clint did when a mark looked at either of his partners.

"No comment." It was probably the wisest answer Clint could have given.

The clock was not a friend and Natasha soon had to make her departure. She straightened up, looking from one partner to the other as she tried to think of how best to tell them to look after the other without making her worries clear.

Coulson had said to play nicely, but Natasha couldn't bring herself to echo him like that.

"Six weeks tops," she said from the doorway.

"Bye, Tasha," came the replies. There was the pause and the glance that meant a silent 'keep safe' that they never uttered. You couldn't keep safe, not in their line of work.

"I might decide to keep her, she talks back less," Stark called as Natasha walked past him at the bar on her way to the lift. She sent him a level glare causing him to raise his hands in defence. "Spidey, Feathers and Limey, you're a perfect trio," he backtracked quickly.

Natasha thought about warning him to keep his eyes off of Juliette, before she realised what he would make of that and chose instead to save herself the bother.

In the car, Natasha took Hill's waiting call.

"Make contact, Fury's decided to speak to the Avengers before calling him in."

… …

**Part one of The Original Initiative. I hope you enjoy it. As always, all canon is Marvel's.**


	2. 2 Clint

**Chapter Two**

… …

**Clint** sat out in the sun, watching the skyline. The late summer air was warm as it rose from the city's streets, bringing faint wisps of dust and traffic noise to the large balcony outside Stark's huge living room. It too had been rebuilt, only the lack of sign below, apart from a large A, remained to show that there had once been a battle of the gods there.

He heard the glass doors open behind him and the almost silent footsteps that followed. Stark would have said something; Banner was silent but too heavy to have that light a tread, as was Rogers and Pepper's shoes made too much noise.

"Lovely weather." Juliette sat next to him, cross-legged near the edge of the roof, in the exact spot the Teseract had been set up. Clint didn't answer for a moment, pretending to be fascinated by her attempts to stop the wind blowing her long hair into her face.

"Mmm," he gave the customary response. He guessed that Natasha had told her to try and find out if he was alright, apparently no one believed him when he said he was.

"Pepper is organising dinner, for me to meet Captain America and Banner." Clint thought about asking when Juliette had gotten on first name terms with Miss Potts, but simply shrugged. "You're coming too."

"I'm good, thanks," he answered and was fixed with a look that was so like Coulson's it hurt. Of the three, Juliette was most like their handler, even if she had known him the least amount of time. "Fine." Faced with that look Clint had to give in, turning away before she realised who she looked like.

Neither one said anything else for a while, Clint was waiting for the expected conversation about his health or recent events and Juliette just staring up at the cloudless sky.

"Are you here to check up on me?" he asked eventually. "Make sure I'm okay, not caught up over Phil or beating myself up about what happened?"

"Why, do you want to talk about him?" Juliette looked down, straight at him with her green-grass eyes. Clint's reply caught in his throat and he had to think about it for a moment. He did want to talk, in a way, he wanted to hear it from someone he trusted that it wasn't his fault; he needed his little partner to say she didn't blame him for taking Coulson away from them.

"Where were you, when, the helicarrier was attacked?" he asked her quietly, not adding that he had led the attack.

"On the bridge, he sent me to find a gun, one of the ones we hadn't tried out yet." Juliette trailed off, her hand drawing meaningless shapes on the tiles beneath her. "He sent me running in the wrong direction, maybe it was to keep me out of the way. I went back when Director Fury called but-" Clint's hand found its way onto her shoulder, the only physical comfort he'd given or received. Natasha wasn't the hugging type.

"What are you doing now? Back at base, without us?" It was almost a joke, but Clint's humour had been off lately.

"Hill took over, or rather I just report to her a lot," Juliette answered quickly. "It's a lot of clean-up, and technically I'm still under emotional surveillance, Tasha slipped the net so she gets to go out. I don't know how permanent anything is anymore." There was the threat that they would be given to different handlers, Natasha sent to someone specialising in ex-USSR agents, Juliette and Clint to whoever wanted them. Clint doubted anyone would want him after the whole mind control thing, he was damaged and compromised and hated, shipped off to the Avengers for his own safety.

"Fury won't want to lose you," he reassured her. "You may even stay with Hill." He almost laughed at the face she pulled in disgust.

"Great, Hill. She doesn't even understand football."

"Soccer, I'm sure she understands soccer." Juliette fixed him with an unimpressed glare. "You did clarify that you meant soccer, right?"

"I meant football." It was an argument he could never win, even Coulson had given up on that one.

"When does Stark want us in there?" asked Clint, realising that he felt lighter without having had to share anything. Juliette had done the talking but he was the one who felt better. Maybe he had just missed her, with Natasha away a lot or busy he hadn't had many people to talk to.

"Ten minutes ago." She was deadly serious for half a beat before smirking. "Well, about now, ish." Clint had been about to offer her his hand up, but didn't after that.

"MI6!" Tony called, coming up to the door as the two agents appeared. "Meet Bruce Banner, and the old guy in the corner is Captain America." Clint watched Juliette carefully as she moved forwards to meet Coulson's hero. Steve had been a part of their lives since he was dug out of the ice, Coulson never shut up about him. Sometimes him being around hurt, when Clint wasn't feeling too great. Juliette gave them both polite smiles but didn't react. Clint wasn't sure if that was good or bad, this lack of emotion. It was more Tasha's style than Juliette's.

"Good evening, Miss," Captain Rogers replied, awkwardly shaking her hand. Clint had to remind himself that although he might be desensitised, others found both Tasha and Juliette very attractive, which was why Steve was looking even more awkward than normal. Banner simply nodded from a distance, not bothering the same uncomfortable handshake Steve had.

"Well, now Spidey's gone they shipped in a replacement from England. Are you temporary or will we end up with two kick ass super spies, no offence Feathers, because that's a high kick ass to guy ratio?" Tony sat down, beckoning for them to join him at the table laid with various Chinese takeaway foods. Pepper appeared, pretty and casual as she had gotten used to an influx of Avengers around her home.

Clint watched, silent and despondent as the dinner unfurled before him. Tony argued with Steve about something, interjecting anything Juliette said with MI6 jokes, whilst Pepper tried to get some talk of work or redecorating going with anyone who would spare her some time.

"So I heard you're the last member of Coulson's little trio," Tony said loudly. Clint and Juliette looked up as one. "Is this the alternative to getting a new boss?" Pepper tried to shush him but Stark didn't realise the niceties of decorum. "Are we keeping you or are you going back to face new music?"

"Better the devil you know than the devil you don't," came Juliette's quiet reply. "Agent Romanoff will be returning as soon as her assignment is completed." Clint wondered what she meant, either way she would take orders from a new leader, be it Hill, another handler or Captain Rogers.

"Where is Spidey anyway? What's she off doing?" Tony just didn't stop, even with a mouthful of noodles.

"Why, Mr Stark, if I told you, I would have to kill you."

**... ...**

**Thanks to all those who favourited and to Rachel Swifite for reviewing. :)**


	3. 3 Phil

**Chapter Three**

**Coulson** looked up as the door to his room opened, Juliette's head poking round the corner.

"Good afternoon," he said, moving the papers on his bed so that she could sit down. "How's New York?" What he meant was how were the Avengers, being confined to his room he had incredibly limited didn't help that everyone, with the exception of a handful of people, thought he was dead, so no one else came to visit.

"Hot, dusty and the street names are dull," answered Juliette as she perched on the spot the files had left for her. "Stark's a laugh and his AI is fond of me." Phil had expected as much, Jarvis somehow had a sense of humour that matched Juliette's.

"And the others? I thought they might come, is Clint alright?" He saw her look away, whether to hide something or just think up the most diplomatic reply. Whatever was going on inside her head, she wasn't about to tell him the whole truth and nothing but.

"None of them are," she replied finally. "Clint blames himself and we can't get through to him that people still trust him. Tasha's playing the big sister but there's more to that than I got the chance to work out." The hint of annoyance was clear, Natasha had a habit of babying her partner, Phil was also guilty but as he did it to all three of them Juliette didn't mind as much. Natasha would keep a hard truth from her, which annoyed the other girl to no end.

"As for the others, well, Stark's an alcoholic with an ego the size of Jupiter, and he goes out of his way irk the Captain, which will be great next time we need them, oh and suddenly responsibility called and I have my doubts about how he'll cope with that. Pepper's just about pulling him together, so let's hope she manages it. The Captain is-" There was a long pause, and Phil sighed. He needed to know how the team was coping but to hear that his hero had a problem as well would shatter the picture.

"The Captain is adjusting," Juliette continued. "And Banner, Banner will be alright, once we have the others."

"You don't know about that," Phil said quickly. The others, the remaining Avengers, were not Juliette's concern.

"I know where Tasha is," she snapped back. "I know who she's looking for and I think Banner needs them. So far we have a self-made hero, who can walk out of his suit whenever he wants, and the very person Banner was trying to replicate, he needs the others to show that he's not alone."

"Stop it," ordered Coulson. "You don't know anything about the others. Tasha shouldn't have told you." He knew it was pointless, Natasha might be the best agent SHIELD had but if Juliette asked nicely...

"Around you I've picked up more than she ever told me." Phil winced slightly at that. "I know who we're missing and I know who you've found. There's no point being hesitant, if you want Banner where you can get your hands on him without making Tasha and me traipse through every slum in India looking for him, you're going to need one of them."

The more he thought about it, the more Phil realised that Juliette could have a point. Stark could keep Banner feeling included, part of a team and test his limits in a good way, but without someone to feel empathy, the doctor would be the wild card, ready to run.

"If Fury gets wind of what you know, he'll come down on Tasha and me like a tonne of bricks." The thought didn't fill Coulson with glee; Fury wanted the Initiative a secret. A well-kept secret.

"Funny that, when I've got more pieces to this puzzle than anyone else," murmured Juliette. "They send their love." Phil wanted to ask why his agents hadn't come. He understood that Clint would do better to stay away from the main SHIELD base because of the resentment others felt after Loki, but he had been expecting Natasha to come in, glaring at him for nearly dying on them and leaving her to deal with Stark on her own. There was no red head at his door however, only a succession of dark ones as Hill, Juliette and Fury came in occasionally. Things outside his sickroom were moving along whilst he was stuck there with a half healed hole in his back.

"It's been two months, does Tasha think I'm contagious?" he asked finally. Again Juliette refused to meet his eye, staring at the floor. "Pieces of the puzzle I'm not meant to know about?" That felt odd, Fury hadn't left him out of the loop for a long time, not when it concerned his team.

"I'm sorry, Phil. I promise, you haven't been forgotten." Coulson knew that, Hill had shown him pictures of what was being planned for his memorial service; the honours his fellow agents were planning to give him touched his wounded heart. It was more the fact that Tasha hadn't come. Not even a get well card.

"I can't decide if I want to watch it, Hill said she can tape it for me. Would that be weird?" Watching his own memorial service, that probably counted as weird.

"I've got a grave remember? After Taiwan, Clint buried me. It was uncomfortable to say the least." Juliette was smiling but Phil could remember the panicked whisper as clearly as if it was yesterday, Tasha trying to keep her partner calm as Clint distracted the funeral goers intent on opening the coffin. Things hadn't gone to plan, and Phil was the only handler to walk away with his whole team.

"It's going to be a long lie," he said with a sigh. The rest of his life, pretending to be dead to most of his colleagues and friends. To see them mourn him and not be able to tell them he was fine. Fury preferred that, to have someone the bad guys thought was dead to run the top secret missions, Loki had given them the perfect Reichenbach fall for him. Juliette didn't answer, completing her study of the floor instead.

"Is Tasha back?"

"She's due in tomorrow, her transport left an hour ago," answered Juliette. She paused, waiting for the invitation to go on. A knock at the door saved Phil from finding out exactly how much she knew.

"Agent Mede," Fury said as he walked in. Juliette stood up, almost to attention. She had never admitted to being in the army, but Phil had his suspicions.

"How are you feeling, Agent Coulson?"

"Absolutely fine, sir," replied Phil. The doctors hadn't cleared him yet, Loki had punctured his heart after all, and every minute spent in the sickbed was grating at his nerves. Clint would laugh after the endless battles they'd had about the archer staying where the doctors told him, only Clint wasn't there.

Fury didn't believe him, he never did.

"Agent Romanoff has successfully completed her mission, I have a copy of the debrief here." Phil took the file, frowning.

"Debrief? Natasha hasn't checked in yet, is she not coming here?"

"She is returning to the Avengers," the director answered shortly. "Mede, come with me. Good day, Coulson." Juliette shot him an apologetic farewell glance as she stood to follow Fury.

"I'll come back when I can," she promised quietly before shutting the door and leaving him alone with Natasha's report and his aching chest.

"You disapprove," Fury said as he marched down the corridor.

"I understand that it's a tactical decision, sir," Juliette almost spat in reply.

"One you think is wrong." Juliette stopped suddenly, glaring up at the director.

"I think you're making Natasha and Clint suffer unnecessarily, and making him miserable. I understand that those sort of emotions aren't meant to interfere but they do. My partners are grieving and my handler thinks they've abandoned him, all because you don't believe me when I tell you that Stark and Banner can be trusted to keep it quiet." Fury stared at her for a tense second, Juliette snapping out of her little outburst and staring bashfully at her shoes.

"One word out of any of you and this blows up in our faces. Any change in behaviour, any little slip and this will all come crashing down on us. So Romanoff and Barton are going to have to wait a little longer, alright?" She mumbled an affirmative. "How much do you know about the Avengers Initiative?"

"Clearance level seven, sir."

"Answer the question." Juliette finally looked up, her spike coming back.

"That there are empty slots," she answered. "And that you only have the locations of one of them."

"Good. I'm putting you in charge of finding the other two. Coordinate between Coulson and Romanoff. And Banner, he knows more than he should about this. Find the other two, and I'll let you be the one to tell Romanoff Coulson's alive." Fury stalked off, leaving her frowning at his last comment. Half way down the corridor he paused, turning back. "Level seven clearance? Go and get yourself a level eight badge, you've been promoted."

"Cheers," Juliette muttered darkly.


	4. 4 Natasha

**Chapter Four**

**Natasha** took her seat silently, her and Juliette forming up on either side of Clint like a protective escort. They could all hear the whispers, from agents who should know better to keep their mouths shut; they could all feel the glares on them.

Even at Coulson's memorial service, in the hall that might have been a very sparse church, there were enemies, ones who wore their own uniform and said they worked together.

The only friendly faces for the trio or more specifically for Clint were the rest of the Avengers and Fury, sitting in the row in front of them. Natasha glanced across at Clint's stoic features, frozen in a mask to stop other emotions leaking out, and Juliette's almost blank stare. Natasha hadn't let herself grieve, not knowingly at least, it had been her job to make sure that Clint and to some extent Juliette, were alright. Even now she was trying not to think about the man they had lost. Her handler, her mentor, her friend. Trusting never came easily, and she certainly hadn't trusted Clint at first, despite him being the one to bring her in, but she had trusted Phil, and grown to trust him more and more. Clint was her right hand, Phil was... Phil. Labels didn't fit. Natasha wouldn't cry, she hadn't cried for a long time, not as anything other than part of an act. Only one person at SHIELD had seen her tears, her shaking hands when something was asked of her and she hated herself for not saying no, and his name was written out in flowers on the table that might have been an altar.

She had seen the body, lying in the coffin. Clint had taken one look and walked out, Juliette just stared, but Natasha had been the one to request that they moved Phil's hands from the prayer like position to his sides as if he was standing to attention. She would have preferred him to be on his side, so that he was sleeping. Except he hadn't looked like he was sleeping, his face was pale and grey, he had looked dead. She had seen him sleeping, curled over on his side with a slight frown on his face and in death he retained only the vaguest resemblance to that resigned expression of exasperation he slept in. The closest she had ever seen Phil look like that was when he had been knocked out by pain meds, the blood loss and cold making him look as white as bone and after three days of no treatment he had looked like death incarnate, albeit shaking and sweating a lot more.

There wasn't a body now, his coffin had been cremated and the ashes sent to a family his team had never met. They didn't have a grave and they didn't have an urn, all Natasha could hold onto were the memories which she knew would shift and lie to her. Nothing of Phil's remained; most of their belongings were SHIELD material anyway. Clint had managed to get a hold of his sunglasses, but that was it. Natasha had one tiny memento, a gift from years ago. As far as she knew, Juliette had nothing.

Fury stood up and said something Natasha barely heard, about how Phil had been the pride of SHIELD, one of their best and how they would miss him and all. Then Captain Rogers stood up, reading out a prepared speech on how Phil had died a hero. She was grateful when no one had the disrespect to hiss anything at Clint. They didn't let Stark talk; Hill had the next reading, followed by some other agents. It dragged on, the main message done with Fury's speech and what little attention Natasha had been paying was gone.

She could keep her face rigid as she remembered, a movie flashing before her eyes. The first time she had met Phil, the day she decided to trust him, the endless wry smiles and resigned sighs, the fights with Clint about staying in medical. The one thought that kept coming back was the day she cried, the day she had thrown out everything she'd taught herself about trust and taken the mask off. Then the times she had gone back, as if once wasn't enough to settle the demons that kept her awake at night. Natasha didn't want much, but she wanted that moment back, when the demons had gone.

Then it was Juliette's turn to stand up and give her speech. Still Natasha wasn't listening, playing back the evening before her mission to meet Sullivan, and the night she had come back. And every night after every mission when the same thing was required.

"We will never forget him, no matter how little we knew him or how much." Juliette sounded far away, further than the voice Natasha was hearing.

_"You can walk away, Tasha, and someone else will take your place, you don't have to do this, we have no right to ask this of you."_

_"Red Room would ask it."_

_"We're not them."_

_"No, I trust you. That's why I'm here."_

"Phil Coulson will live on in our minds, as a hero standing among heroes."

"_If I get this wrong I'll be dead before you or Clint can get me out of there."_

_"Someone else can do it, Tasha, if you don't want to."_

_"There's no one to save me for, I'll die for SHIELD, and I know that. I just want to- to know, before I go. It's something they tried to stamp out of me, but it's something I've never known. I trust you, and that's the closest I'll ever get."_

"A father, a brother, a mentor, a friend. He will not be forgotten and the darkness will never, ever win."

"Tasha? Tasha, come on we're leaving," Clint's voice broke her out of her dreams and she realised that everyone else was standing up to go. Pepper came up to them, wiping her eyes.

"Fury said that you three are to come with us, back to the tower. Are you alright? Here, I've got tissues." Natasha took one even though she wasn't crying. She felt like crying, more at the memory than at the service, but she wouldn't. Not ever again, because there was no one she trusted enough to see her cry and there was no point crying on your own.

_"You know that when you're here, the shadows can't find you, Tasha."_

As she looked back at the hall Natasha felt all the shadows grow, reaching out to stab at Clint, to pull Juliette away. Phil wasn't there to keep the shadows out and like a little girl she wanted him back, to keep the nightmares away next time they sent her out to play.

… …

**Note: I haven't read any comics concerning Natasha, so anything with Red Room is my artistic license, I know roughly what happened but it won't be canon, because trying to work out Marvel comic canon is impossible. This is purely going on what is in the films.**


	5. 5 Natasha

**Chapter Five**

**Natasha** wished that she could just shoot Stark. He was holding, of all things, a masked ball for a charity event and was insisting on them all going.

"You'll be wearing a mask, Spidey, no one will see the whole super spy face thing. No one will know who you are," Stark repeated. "Even Capsicle here is going." Steve was going under protest and the threat of being forced to watch the Rocky Horror Show again. Tony had literally pinned him down by sitting on him in his suit and made him watch it. Captain America was soiled forever.

"No, it's a stupid risk that I'm not going to take," she answered, looking to Clint and Juliette for support. They had been cooped up in the tower, with Juliette getting stir crazy and Clint itching to do something since Phil's memorial. Juliette had gone back to base once, for all of three hours, but apart from that none of them had left the tower. Therefore, they were both behind Stark's idea with an enthusiasm that made her protests seem pitiful.

"Fine, but at no point am I taking that mask off or moving it or recognising that I am in any way related to the team. None of us are." Stark didn't seem to hear her conditions, though.

"Brilliant, so now Feathers just has to choose which girl he wants to go with, hang on wait," Tony stopped mid flow, counting heads. "Okay, I'll have to find someone to date whoever the girls leave. So you three ask one of them quickly before the other two do." Natasha glared at him; she had no intention of going with anyone. Steve had gone bright red and was making an in depth study of the carpet. Then she heard Clint snigger behind her and the idea of something ludicrous to cheer him up almost seemed worthwhile.

"Can't we all just go stag?" she heard Bruce murmur from the corner and wondered how Tony had coerced him into going."

"Bruce is going stag, you four can go together and I've got Pepper, it's all fine, sorted, done, go and find costumes and all." With that Tony walked out, the excitement over, leaving Banner shaking his head as he silently asked the ceiling why.

"Should I ask Steve instead of you?" Clint whispered in her ear. Natasha very nearly hit him, only to realise that from Juliette's far too innocent expression she had just suggested it to him.

"Of course I will, Clint," she replied loudly. "I'm sure Steve won't mind taking Juliette, will you?" She didn't know if it was possible for the Captain to go any redder.

"Miss Mede, would you do me the honour of accompanying me?" It sounded like Steve was proposing, he certainly looked that serious.

"There, she's got her Prince Arthur," Clint muttered as Juliette accepted graciously. "Now curtsy and go and have tea or something." Something in Steve's expression clued Natasha in that something was up. Even as Clint carried on she realised what it was. Peggy Carter. Maybe Steve going with Juliette wasn't the best idea; behind a mask she could sound a little too familiar to Steve.

"Looks like you're on your own, Bruce," Clint was calling cheerfully, it was a forced cheerful but more real than anything Natasha had heard in a while. "Unless someone else knows a girl."

"Hill," Juliette supplied without missing a beat. Remembering Hill's speech at the memorial, how close to an actual emotion the agent was, Natasha didn't think that would be such a good idea.

"Don't worry; it's probably not such a good idea anyway." That was the worst thing Bruce could have said, making Natasha groan silently. Juliette would think it her job to get Hill to agree.

"Don't," she tried to tell the English agent, only to be cut off by Juliette's phone.

"I'm on my way, oh and Maria..." Bruce gave her a startled look. "Don't say no before you've heard me out!" That made the others chuckle, listening to Juliette's over loud voice as she walked towards the lift. "Stark's having a charity ball, all in masks before you ask, and we're one girl short. No, no that wasn't actually my fault. The stains came out! Most of them... So you will, that's great, cheers, bye!" At the lift doors she turned and flashed Bruce a smile. "You have yourself a date, Doctor."

Bruce looked from one agent to the other as Juliette vanished downstairs.

"She wasn't serious, was she?" he asked in a worried tone. Steve was watching awkwardly as well, as if the last five minutes had completely flown over the top of his head.

"Hard to tell, I'll keep you posted," answered Clint. "Just be ready for either outcome." Still looking unsure and slightly unnerved, Bruce wandered out, a flushed Steve following.

"You sure you wouldn't rather I went with someone else?" Clint asked as soon as they were alone. "Free you up."

"Don't push it," growled Natasha. "It's a bad idea us going anyway, we're meant to keep our heads down and not show that we have anything to do with the Avengers." She didn't trust Stark not to blow things up in their faces, something would go wrong and he wouldn't understand the consequences.

"Relax, Tasha, no one will know us. And," Clint's voice dropped to a dark whisper as he passed her. "Who knows what could happen at a masked ball, isn't that the point?" This time she did hit him, hard on the forehead.

"The last masked ball I went to I poisoned my date with cyanide," she warned him. Clint simply shrugged.

"I've lived," he answered. "Come on, Tasha, you-"

"Clint, do not try to tell me what to do when you have no idea what you're talking about." Natasha turned on her heel and stalked off, refusing to let Clint finish that line of thought. The offhand comments from her partners were one thing, but Clint always had to ruin it by taking it one step too far. Juliette knew where to stop, Phil had never crossed the line but Clint always took a flying leap and expected her to clap when he jumped across it.

Even so, Natasha did go and begin thinking about a dress, she was meant to be the most beautiful agent in SHIELD after all, and the dresses were one of the best parts of the job.


	6. 6 Phil

**Chapter Six**

**Phil** had finally managed to get out of his sick bed, all the way to the chair by the desk, and was duly proud of himself. His back still had a hole in it, and the two doctors who were deemed trustworthy enough to hold the secret said he would be back to health in another month or so. Back to a world that thought he was dead, and friends who never visited. He had his suspicions about that now, after Hill had shown him the footage of his memorial. Natasha had seemed a world away, and she wouldn't fake that, she would adopt Juliette's cold stare rather than show that much on her face.

"They don't know," he stated as he heard the door open behind him. The tread was too light to be Fury or his doctors, it was Hill or Juliette. He knew now that it couldn't be Tasha.

"No," Hill's voice answered. "They don't." Phil turned around, his back aching as he did so.

"Why not?" Juliette did, although she had apparently been there seconds after he passed out on top of Fury, so it would have been hard to keep it from her.

"Because everyone is watching them, from the average agent here to Stark and Banner, any change in behaviour would give them away." Those were Fury's words Hill was spouting, even as she sat down on his bed and tried not to look as regretful as she was.

"Why did no one say?" Phil asked gently. He had been lying there thinking Clint was in too much danger to visit him and Tasha had forgotten all about him. Hill didn't manage to keep her cold face at that, looking at him with a mixture of pity and guilt.

"Juliette was already lobbying for them to know, Fury didn't want your voice to add to that." It was clear who Hill sided with, Fury was on his own among two of his most senior officers, and his most vocal agent.

Phil sighed, trying to lean back only to find that the chair bit into his back.

"Who are we to argue then?" he asked, resigned. "Thanks." Hill reached out to help him back across the room to the bed. Before he could ask she handed him the laptop he had been working on.

"Fury's given Mede a level eight clearance pass," said Hill, still sitting on the bed as he made himself comfortable. Phil frowned at that, level eight put Juliette on the same level as Tasha, one step above Clint, and without him knowing.

"No one told me," he complained. "You don't happen to know why?" Suddenly he had the awful feeling that Fury was trying to replace him with Juliette. It would make sense, she was the least involved with the Avengers, the one who could rise up within SHIELD more easily than Tasha or Clint, and she wasn't meant to be dead to every other agent. It didn't help that Hill paused before shaking her head.

"I only found out because she sat in on a level eight meeting, helicarrier movements I didn't realise she had clearance to know about." That was also a lie, Hill would have been told by Fury, but somehow Phil appreciated her trying not to hurt him.

"Maria, ever since Loki stabbed me people have been keeping the truth to themselves about anything they can. If Juliette's been hiding things from me and Tasha and Clint think I'm dead, you're the only person who's going to give me some answers." Still she shook her head, refusing to look him in the eye. "Is Juliette my replacement?"

"I don't know," Maria replied. "I would think so, she's taking over everything you did, and it's being split between her, Natasha and me. You will be back on duty before too long so they won't get a new handler; you'll go back to them." There was a pause that said volumes.

"But," Phil prompted.

"Control of the Avengers is Fury's priority right now, you're still too sick to do anything with them and with possible threats now knowing of our existence, he has to have someone to deal with them. Juliette and Natasha are the logical candidates. No one's replacing you, Phil; we're just trying to cope without you." She gave him the briefest smile as she said that. "When you're back on your feet things will, be easier, one of them might very well be the face SHIELD sees for the Avengers, or we might pretend it's Captain Rogers, but you'll go back to them." Her hand almost patted his shoulder in assurance, but she let it fall to her side. "Just get better; we'll hobble along until you do."

"You didn't read out my cue cards," he complained lightly. It was ironic that the only person who had read out his suggested speech was Captain Rogers, which had touched Phil's heart, but the three people who knew he was alive made it up on the spot. Maria shrugged, letting the little smile come back.

"You didn't do yourself justice," she answered. "And only Captain America can pull off those lines, they were very cliché."

"Speech writing isn't my forte, and writing your own eulogy is a little strange. It was, humbling, to think that anyone cared that much." Phil sighed, watching the service had been hard, he never thought for one moment that so many people would attend.

"That's what makes you a hero," Maria said quietly. "You didn't go asking for glory."

"Stop plagiarising Fury," Phil shot back. "It sounded bad enough when he said it." He lay back, his chest hurting from the movement. Two months to heal a punctured lung and a scarred heart ventricle wasn't enough.

"I'll let you rest," Maria murmured, and stood up to leave.

"Maria, if they find the others, you'll let me know?" If they found the other Avengers, the missing caps in the line up without him, Phil wanted to know.

"Of course," she promised. "Get some sleep, the sooner you're better the sooner they know."

… …

**So, if anyone's following, I'll be missing in action for a week, I'm in Italy **** Leave something nice for me to get back to?**


	7. 7 Clint

**Chapter Seven**

**Clint** leaned against the bar lazily, waiting for Tasha. Tony had ruled that they had to go separately, partly to hide the fact that they were the same numbers and the Avengers and also to feed the whole secret identity thing. So Tony had taken Pepper earlier, Bruce and Maria were meeting downstairs to go in a separate car and Juliette had been driven to pick Steve up at his flat. It was stupidly complicated and pointless when you had four spies going. Clint knew what the girls were going in; since Juliette had shown him the dress she had gotten for Maria and herself. The only mystery would be Tasha, who had kept it as true to Tony's ideas of secrecy as possible.

A mystery that revealed itself as she walked in, mask in hand. Clint couldn't help but stare at her. Green wasn't a colour she normally went for, but it certainly worked. The gown reached the floor, and showed off her figure perfectly.

"Stop staring," she snapped, turning around so that Clint could tie her mask on for her. It covered her face entirely, a hard cast face with poised lips and slanted eyes, all covered in green and red sequins. When she faced him again, Clint would never have thought it was her, apart from the half concealed red curls and the way she held herself that was so completely Natasha he could see it anywhere.

"You look nice," he said finally. She rolled her eyes behind the mask and pulled his on for him, a purple plain one that kept his face from view. They hadn't coordinated, Tony handing him a black and purple suit and tie.

"I can't believe we agreed to this," muttered Natasha. "It's ridiculous." Clint shrugged it off, he wanted the air and it was the most interesting thing that had happened in a few weeks. Juliette hovered between being pulled back to base and being in the tower full time, as if Fury didn't know where to put her. He didn't know what to do with any of them, obviously, three suddenly orphaned agents left floating around. Clint shook his head to get back to the light-hearted moment Stark was forcing down their throats.

"It'll be fun. Come on." Clint held out his hand, giving her a strained smile that she couldn't see. Natasha managed to glare at him through the mask but took it anyway and they made their way downstairs to the waiting car.

Clint stepped out first, opening the door for Natasha like a proper gentleman. Another car was pulling up, identical to theirs, and out stepped a tall blonde in a blue mask. Clint had to grin, Steve might have his face covered but his body language betrayed him. Natasha tugged him away before Steve could help Juliette out, and Clint didn't get to see the dress. Inside was packed, they could hardly move between the expensive tuxedos and ball gowns, the lull of idle chatter over the music was slightly too loud to be pleasant.

"Great, now what?" Clint asked her. He hadn't been to a part, ball, whatever it was unless he was following a mark. Just being there, it was new, there was no one to kill or listen to or anything. There was also no Phil in his ear, telling him what to do either.

Natasha didn't reply, leading him towards a table already occupied by a couple. It took Clint a second to realise that they were Bruce and Maria. Bruce kept looking around nervously, fidgeting whenever someone came close and readjusting his mask. Clint barely looked at him though; Maria took up his full attention for a long moment. Her pale pink dress and mask made her look a lot sweeter and softer than her usual all business self.

"Mind if we join you?" Natasha asked them. Bruce's shoulders relaxed as soon as he worked out who they were.

"Please do," he answered and they took the chairs next to them. "You look, uh, really nice, Natasha." Clint smirked behind his mask. Bruce had scared the living daylights out of Tasha, which wasn't easy, and he was awkwardly trying to get back into her good books, either one treating the other like an unexploded bomb. Which, admittedly, they both were.

Clint felt as if he had to say something to Maria, who did look amazing, but she was still his superior, and even in the masks that was hard to forget. She was ignoring him, studying the other party-goers. A fair number had tiny little eye masks on that barely hid their faces, others went the whole hog and had huge feathers coming out of their masks. Pepper and Tony, dancing in the middle of the floor, had the former, it being blindly obvious who they were. Tony caught sight of them, recognising their suits and waved them over, gesturing to the dance floor. Bruce let out an almost inaudible sigh before giving in to his friend and asking Maria to dance. Clint held out his hand to Natasha out of necessity.

It was three songs later that they managed to get away from Tony's enthusiasm and all sit back down. So far Steve and Juliette hadn't found them, leaving just the four of them.

"I'll go and get some drinks- oh, that's not going to work." Bruce sat back down, the slits for his eyes showing that he was frowning. With their faces covered they weren't going to be able to eat or drink, something Tony's small mask allowed him to do in his usual fashion. Even their voices had changed slightly, although they were still recognisable. Clint hated having his vision restricted to two tiny slits, set at an odd angle that didn't really fit his eye shape. He caught Maria looking around a bit too much as well, being half blindfolded was unnatural for them. Maybe they looked bored, sitting there, but some richly dressed stranger, one of Tony's group of charity benefactors or businessmen came up, ignoring Clint and asked Natasha to dance. With a lack of hesitation that was slightly insulting, she accepted and Clint was left bereft of a partner. He didn't watch her disappear into the crowd; Bruce chose that moment to excuse himself as well, going out to get some air or something. Clint found himself sitting in an awkward silence with Maria, debating how out of place it would be to ask her to dance.

"Go ahead, Barton," she said finally, standing up. Clint felt himself go ever so slightly red, hidden by the mask. They walked out onto the floor, Clint acutely aware of his hand on Maria's waist as they moved together slowly, waltzing around with the other couples.

"How are you finding your new position?" Maria asked him, carefully keeping things ambiguous.

"Interesting workmates," answered Clint. "And little actual field work." They had done nothing, except help clear up, since the battle, and it was grating at his nerves. The world didn't need superheroes all the time, SHIELD sorted out the average bad guys. Now, the team seemed obsolete, ready to fall apart because it wasn't needed.

Maria simply nodded, looking away. Clint didn't ask her anything, it wasn't his place. He thought about asking if she knew what was going to happen to him and the girls, if she would be replacing Phil as handler or not.

"Theoretically that's a good thing," she said. Clint nodded, the Avengers being out of work was good for the world, even if it meant he had nothing to fill his day.

The dance ended and Maria moved away slightly, towards Pepper who had lost Tony somewhere along the line. Bruce had come back into the room, his slightly hunched shoulders and glasses under the mask led Clint straight over to him.

"It appears we've lost the girls." Bruce nodded, probably smiling as well but Clint couldn't see.

"Steve's wandering around without a partner too, turns out we did end up on our own anyway," answered Bruce, sounding almost relieved at the turn of the evening. Surprised, Clint instantly looked around for Juliette. Maria was making her way back towards them, Pepper and Tony had found each other again, and Clint could see Steve trying to work out who his friends were. There, at the back of the room, almost in the shadows, he saw Natasha's green dress as she stood in front of her partner.

Steve had been pointed in their direction by Pepper, coming over with a frown visible behind his blue mask.

"You haven't seen Juliette, have you? She said she would only be a minute." Clint turned his head to look around the room. "She's in black and silver, sort of long and uh." Steve's neck under the mask was turning red. Clint had seen Juliette's dress, it was low and backless and outrageous for a 1940's mind.

"No, I can't see her, sorry." Maria shook her head when Steve looked to her.

"Try outside?" she prompted helpfully. With a sigh Steve left, walking out past them towards the door. For a moment Clint caught Tasha's eye across the room, or rather, he thought he did, but her attention was elsewhere.

… …

**So, that's the major ships set up. Yes, there will be more or less everyone paired up. Reviews are appreciated.**


	8. 8 Phil

**Chapter Eight**

**Phil** sat in the small side room off the interview room Fury had planned to use. He kept all outward signs of his emotions in check, his hands were still and he hardly moved at all. He couldn't hear what was going on the other side of the door in the larger room, he wasn't sure if he wanted to or not.

Finally, after months in medical he was deemed fit to return to light duties, which Fury had yet to disclose exactly what they would be. It also meant that Tasha and Clint would be brought in and told. Phil knew about some private deal between Juliette and Fury to tell them, but the details were sketchy and it didn't matter, she had done whatever it was he wanted and now her partners would be told the truth.

Phil was sitting there waiting for the explosion in the other room. As far as he was aware the three of them were in there, Juliette explaining things to ward off any bad reactions. Fury was overcautious and didn't understand the three agents. Phil knew that Clint would be angry, he had been hit the hardest thinking the attack on the helicarrier was his fault, but he would glare, yell at most and then settle down into a stew of anger and frustration that would burn itself out eventually. Natasha, Phil had to admit that he wasn't too sure about that. She wouldn't believe Juliette; she would need to see him to confirm it.

The Avengers would have two shocks coming their way, Fury decided that telling Clint and Tasha first would be best, then telling the rest of the team about his survival. Then the second shock would come, once they had gotten over that.

The door opened and Maria walked in, closing it behind her quickly. It made Phil sit up, expecting to be reunited with his agents any second.

"They haven't arrived yet," she told him gently. "Juliette is wearing a hole in the floor from pacing." With the door shut she relaxed a little, Maria giving him a small smile that Agent Hill never would have.

"Am I the only person who doesn't think that they're going to blow up?" asked Phil.

"She's impatient, not worried. It's just getting her part over and done with. Are you alright though?" She kept asking him that, as if the doctors were lying when the said he was ready to be let up.

"Perfectly." Maria had lobbied for the reunion to take place in his sick room, Clint and Tasha shown him sitting up and fine in the hopes that it would give them a good reason for him being kept quiet as well as soften the blow in a more familial setting. Phil and Juliette disagreed, preferring for him to come back in as the strong handler they had known beforehand, partly to relieve Clint's guilt that it was his fault. Also because he wanted to give them a brave face, as he always had. Only once had there been a crack, Phil wasn't going to let almost dying be another crack. So he would meet them both in a plain room, after Juliette explained to them what had happened, and deal with them. Phil had dared hope that things would go back to how they had been, even though he knew that would never happen. Four months of it just being the three of them, his agents would be used to being without him now, they might not want him back.

"I have to go," Maria said after another few minutes of waiting. "It'll be fine. A call will come when they get here." As if on cue there was a ring, Phil tapped his earpiece to answer it.

"Hell is empty and all the devils are here," Juliette muttered in his ear.

"She says they're here," he told Maria. "Go on, we'll be fine. Back to one perfect team by the time Fury asks for us." She nodded and left with one last good luck smile.

"I was expecting some sort of last minute advice or well-wishing here," Juliette said and Phil realised he hadn't cut the call.

"Don't quote Shakespeare at them and don't try to be funny," he answered.

"Thanks, that's my entire pre-prepared speech gone then. Do you have anything more constructive?"

"Just tell them, and try not to make Fury sound like the bad guy here, Loki stabbed me, not him."

"I didn't think you would," she murmured. "I'll do my best. Ten minutes." The line went silent and Phil was left waiting again, listening for footsteps that told him the others were in the room next door. Through the wall he could hear nothing, the base design too well thought out to allow for that. So he was stuck in the quiet eternity, just waiting.

Phil hated waiting, despite spending his entire life waiting for calls or messages. It was always the same, his agents were in a bad situation and he was waiting for news. Every single day. If it wasn't waiting for them to make contact it was waiting for orders or news from someone else, always waiting for the second when he could make his one deciding move after they had done the running around. So again he waited, for them to call him through and be reunited. Maybe they were the most sentimental group in SHIELD, a little too much perhaps like a family. Some strange little family, he thought dryly.

"Now would be great," the call finally came, Juliette's voice slightly tense and rushed. Phil was up at once, moving more slowly that he should have been due to the injury. He crossed the room to the door in one step, pulling it open slowly to keep his calm sense about him. The room beyond held three agents and three chairs, none of which were occupied. Tasha was facing him, staring wide eyed. Clint was leaning with his arms crossed against the wall, his mouth hanging open.

Phil couldn't think of what to say, looking from one to the other for a moment.

"B`lyad'!" Tasha swore loudly.


	9. 9 Clint

**Chapter Nine**

**Clint **stepped out of the jeep, looking around slowly to try and hide his nervousness. He hadn't been back to base since before the Chitauri attack, and even a brief spell on the helicarrier and at Phil's memorial service had shown how unwelcome he was. He had been there three seconds and already half a dozen people had sent his death glares, even the agent who had been sent to pick them up discreetly ignored him entirely. The only friendly face he could see was Juliette's small one, and that was more anxious than welcoming.

They hadn't been told why there were being summoned, Clint and Natasha had just been ordered to come in. Even for SHIELD, answers were getting rarer and rarer.

"Ten minutes," he saw Juliette say into her earpiece. From that distance Clint couldn't hear her, but she had to speak clearly enough for the mic to pick it up that allowed him to lip read. Ten minutes to what, he wondered. She came over to them, her expression fixed into one of complete calm now. With a little jerk of her head she led them into the base, words weren't needed they knew the drill, walls had ears after all. Clint followed closely behind her, getting slightly more irritated with each step Natasha too closer to him. He didn't need a bodyguard, if the other agents wanted a bit of him he could look after himself. He deserved it, Clint was still at least partially sure of that despite what everyone kept telling him. Everyone except the numerous agents that gave him dirty looks in the corridors as he passed. Juliette led them to an interview room, one of the few without the one way mirror or security cameras. Clint suppressed a shudder; he knew what went on in those rooms. These were for the private interrogations, the off record ones that were never recorded. He looked at the three uncomfortable chairs in the middle of the room, not really wanting to think about who else had occupied them and what they had been doing. The door shut firmly behind them.

Juliette sat down; taking the chair that faced the other two.

"I suggest you take a seat," she said quietly. Her voice wasn't friendly; it had gone to the same professional cold tone Hill and Coulson always had when they were being agents not friends. Clint didn't comply, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall instead. Natasha was better behaved and perched on the chair nearest the door. There was a pause as Juliette waited for him to sit down then realised that he wasn't going to.

"This doesn't go beyond this room," she began. Clint rolled his eyes, that was a given. "Don't look like that, Clint, Fury's been preventing me from telling you both for months." That made his stand up a bit straighter. Natasha had mentioned that she thought Juliette was up to something, along with Hill but not that there was anything major being kept from them. "I think you'd be better off sitting down, Clint." He ignored her.

"Go on then," he said coldly. Now her facade slipped and she hesitated, looking towards the other door firmly shut but not locked, Clint saw, locked.

"Fury ordered that you were both kept in the dark, to keep this from getting out. Eventually the other Avengers will know but he didn't know how far he could trust them." Clint stiffened; he understood what she was getting at. Fury didn't know if he could trust his two agents either, to keep this quiet. Whatever this was. To her credit, Juliette didn't automatically say that she had disagreed with the director and try to put herself forward in a good light. "Phil isn't dead. He was only injured, badly of course but he isn't dead."

The words rushed over Clint, not making any sense. Phil. Wasn't. Dead. The sounds meant something but it didn't compute. Phil was dead, he had seen the body, Loki had killed him. Phil was dead and it was his fault.

Natasha was on her feet, turning away from Juliette who almost shrank back slightly. Detached, Clint could see her praying neither of them would throw a chair, hence her insistence that they sat down.

"You're lying," Natasha hissed, not looking at her partner. "Why are you lying to us?"

"I'm not. It's true, Loki stabbed him and he was unconscious so the audio cut out, but he wasn't dead. Fury realised that the team needed something to pull them together; he sent me to get the cards and gave his dramatic speech to Stark and Steve. Phil's alive, Tasha. I swear, I'm telling the truth."

"I don't believe you." Clint was silent but he agreed, they had seen Phil's body, stiff and cold in the coffin. Even Fury wouldn't have made them think that he was dead for so long, the man wasn't ruthless but not that cruel. Juliette touched her earpiece, never taking her eyes off of Natasha's hands, ready for the fight that the redhead's sudden temper might bring.

"Now would be great," she said a little too loudly, as if she was calling someone who was within earshot instead of via the mic.

Moments later the back door opened, Clint tensed, ready to face the new danger. Juliette stood up, moving as if to protect the person coming in. The man who walked through, almost but not quite straight backed, was as familiar to them as their own faces. Clint's mouth dropped open, staring at Phil.

Natasha swore loudly in Russian, moving forward half a step before freezing.

"No," Clint managed finally. "You were in your coffin. You were dead. Whatever's going on, it's not possible."

"Nice to see you too, Clint," Phil said, moving towards the chair Juliette had just vacated. It was him, Clint had to admit, he was the right height, just taller than Natasha and Juliette, thinner than Clint had ever seen him and with less hair. It was Phil, from the almost paternal smile to his long fingered hands, it was him. "Juliette, I thought you were filling them in."

"We had to show a body otherwise it wouldn't hold," she answered, still in her defensive position. "Phil was out of it, from blood loss and drugs and all that, it wasn't that hard to stuff the life support underneath the table and make sure no one got close enough to see anything. He wasn't even breathing at that point, the machine did it for him, the only trouble was where to put the drip lines." Clint was still staring at Phil, but the world had stopped spinning slightly. Slowly, with his hands raised so that Juliette would let him by, he walked over to his handler and reached out, touching Phil's shoulder. It was warm and solid and suddenly Clint grinned.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered but for a moment he was too happy to bother being pissed. Phil was smiling thinly too, and Clint resisted the urge to give him some more boisterous form of man hug or pat his shoulder. "You're okay?" he asked quietly, Phil had still been stabbed.

"Fully cleared for duty again, and don't swear." Clint laughed, the first time he had properly laughed in months. That was Phil alright, he was back.

"Tasha?" Clint had forgotten Natasha for a moment but Phil looked around him at her.

Natasha had gone pale; she didn't so much look angry and just in shock.

"Why weren't we told?" she asked finally, her voice far softer than usual. Phil sighed.

"You already believed it to be true by the time the fight was over," he answered. "Fury thought that any change in behaviour would give it away. He saw the benefit of having someone who doesn't exist, and he couldn't trust the Avengers not to blow up in our faces if they found out he had lied to them."

"So now he does?" The room was small but at that moment it could have only contained the tow of them, Clint knew that he and Juliette were as invisible as the air.

"Now he does and I'm sorry it took so long." Natasha nodded abruptly, sitting down on her chair again and pulling her knees up. Clint and Juliette met each other's eyes. Some silent signal made them both walk out. Clint turned for half a second, nodding to Phil as he closed the door. There were still in the high security area, with no cameras and no one around at all.

"Okay, now I'm pissed off," he said in the corridor. Juliette was flushed with relief, letting a small smile cross her face.

"Don't, Clint, Hill and I have been at him for months. He made a mistake and he knows it, he just couldn't put it right." Clint was unable to feel any sympathy for Fury's position; he had just spent the last few months with his best friend and mentor's death on his conscience.

"Yeah, well he could have told us sooner. We're spies; we know how to keep up a face. He could have trusted us to know our job at least." He began to march along, towards the main control room.

"Clint, just wait!" Juliette had to jog to keep up with him. "Just wait, okay? You can't change it and it's not your place to try. You should have been told and-"

"Damn right I should have! Why were you in on it anyway?" That annoyed him as well, that everything on her part had been a show, all the grief and worry. Then again, he thought, Juliette hadn't actually done anything to show that she was upset, they had assumed her attitude to carry on as if everything was fine was simply her way of coping.

"I was there, seconds after he was stabbed. I was only a fraction too late to stop it, a minute earlier and I could have helped. Fury and the medics were there, he had sent me off to find one of the guns they had prepared for Loki. He sent me off on the wrong direction, to keep me out of the way I guess. I came in and there he was, blood and doctors and him not moving. Fury couldn't keep it from me like he could from you and Tasha, I was there and I saw them save him." Juliette suddenly went very quiet, walking along as Clint slowed down and staring at the floor. He could tell what she was thinking, that a minute earlier and she could have caught Loki, done something to stop Phil from getting hurt.

"He would have killed you, or worse," Clint told her firmly. "You don't know what he was capable of. With that stick he would have had your soul and made you kill Phil instead. Don't beat yourself up over it, okay?" She nodded, still quiet. "I suppose you did a good job, lying to us for that long." It was mean, he knew but he was angry now.

"I'm sorry," was all she could say. "Fury couldn't stay with him, for the first few days it looked like I wouldn't have to lie at all." The guilt hit Clint after his last comment. Juliette had had to sit there not knowing if Phil would pull through or not, all on her own. At least he had had Natasha and others around him to offer support, even if he hadn't taken it.

"He's alright now, though?" Clint asked again.

"Perfectly, chaffing at the bit to be allowed up. He's done more paperwork for Hill and Fury these last few months than they have in years, since he couldn't do anything else. Now he's back up cleared for duty and all."

"What now?" To that Juliette gave a strained laugh.

"Hell knows, and he hasn't told me yet."

**Thanks to Rachel and Queb for reviewing.**


	10. 10 Natasha

**Chapter Ten**

**Natasha** sat at the long empty conference table, leaning back but not quite putting her feet up. Stark would laugh at that, she thought, to come in and find her lounging there waiting for them. She had asked Phil if the building had been designed especially for the Avengers, of course he hadn't answered her but it was a little too conveniently sized to be an accident. Its very location, detached from the main complex with its own entrance into the SHIELD compound screamed high level secrecy. The conference room table had enough room for eleven, a large semi-circle similar to the one on the Helicarrier Bridge. The corridor outside led to eight almost identical rooms, walking past Natasha had managed to work out that at least three had double thickness walls. She didn't need to ask who they were for.

Fury hadn't been so kind as to tell them what they were revealing to the Avengers that morning. Natasha was under the impression that it was just Phil's survival, and that the Initiative would be saved for another time. She shivered slightly at the file Juliette had passed to her three days ago, detailing out what SHIELD had been able to find out about one of the missing Avengers. Juliette had hacked it from the KGB records, Natasha definitely didn't want to know how her partner had gotten a hold of the information or at what cost.

"Well it's nice to see this place finally used for something," Phil said brightly as he walked in. Inside the building he could roam around freely, the cameras weren't linked to the main base and there was no one inside, not even cleaners who weren't trusted to keep his survival a secret.

"What else would it have been used for?" she asked immediately.

"Extra barracks." That was a lie outright. "You should have gone with Clint to get the others." Clint had left the base again after meeting Phil; they had had their handler back from the dead for only a week before their planned meeting with the Avengers. The four of them had been together to talk and plan things, but Clint hadn't been given that much time to get over the shock of not having helped someone kill his mentor. As always, Fury didn't really get the idea of compassionate leave. Natasha on the other hand, hadn't left, and hadn't been questioned since her presence at the base wasn't a security risk.

"It's not that hard to herd them in the right direction, Stark wants answers as to what we're keeping from him, the Captain comes as orders and Banner will tag along out of curiosity. Clint can handle it." She shrugged, giving reasons she almost believed herself. Diplomatically, Phil took his seat at one end of the horse shoe table, nearest where Fury would stand. "Are they just going to walk in here and see you then? No quiet explanation in a side room first?" Phil shook his head, taking out the ever present briefcase and files.

"They can wait outside, we're telling Stark first, then Banner and Captain Rogers will come in," he answered. "And Juliette had guts to sit there in front of you both; she was counting on at least one of you not reacting violently. She's good, but she's not good enough to deal with you both. Here, she won't be so outnumbered."

The door opened to reveal Fury, making Natasha sit up straighter as he marched in, followed by Juliette.

"The Avengers have arrived," the director informed them. The space between the ends of the horse shoe seemed completely filled up with his presence, even though he wasn't trying to be commanding. That would be turned on when he had a roomful of unruly superheroes to deal with. Natasha saw Juliette hesitate, trying to find a neutral place to sit, and nodded towards the seat next to her. As one, the two agents turned in their chairs to face the door.

Moments later, it opened halfway and Clint walked in, followed by a surly looking Tony Stark. The door was shut immediately behind them

"Okay, I get the whole super spy thing going on but separating us really-" Stark caught sight of Phil sitting calmly at the table. "What. The. Fuck?"

"Surprise?" Clint tried with a smirk. Natasha could almost see him standing straighter, a weight lifted off of him.

"The hell, Barton!" Stark spat angrily before rounding on Phil. "You're dead! You died, we bloody saw you dead."

"No," Phil answered calmly. "You saw me critically ill and unconscious, lain out in a coffin to make the world think I was dead." Stark stared at him for a minute, glowering and almost spluttering at them all.

"What the hell?" he asked loudly, prompting Natasha to assume that the conference room was sound proofed.

"You needed a kick to work together," Fury told him. "That was your kick."

"You knew!" Stark rounded on the three agents in the room, and for one moment it looked like he would make the mistake of punching Clint.

"Not for that long," answered Natasha. "So, are you going to get over it or do you need a few moments?"

"Shut up, Romanoff. Like you didn't flip when you saw a dead man walking." Natasha would have bit back if not for Juliette's warning hand placed gently on her knee for half a second.

"Agent Barton, please bring the others in, I think Mr Stark has recovered from the shock." Stark glared at them all, before walking round to the far side of the table and putting as much distance between him and Phil as possible. Anger drifted off of him like a red hot sweat.

Clint let Steve and Banner in, followed by Hill who shut the door firmly behind them all. The Captain stopped dead, staring at Phil with his mouth open. He was so adorable Natasha heard Juliette snicker quietly. Banner, on the other hand took the sight in and gave Phil a friendly nod, immediately going to take the chair closest to where Tony was standing as if seeing someone who was meant to be dead and buried was every day.

Banner had known, or suspected, which made Natasha curious. Stark was the one who hacked SHIELD's files, so how did Banner know?

"Agent Coulson," Steve finally managed to cough out, his eyes popping comic book style out of his head. "You look well."

"Understatement of the century," Stark muttered under his breath. "They lied to us, Spangles. The blood soaked cards, the whole death wish speech. All of it." Phil gave Fury the tiniest of glares; he was slightly upset about the damage to his cards, the blood refused to come out. Absently Natasha wondered whose blood it was, Fury wouldn't have gone back to the prison cell and found Phil's own blood, more likely he would have nicked his finger or something. "We needed a kick, apparently, and making us all mourn was the only way they could come up with." Steve took that all in silence, looking around slowly. There was the faintest hint of hurt in his expression, they had lied to him after all, but it was well hidden. Natasha had to admire that, she hadn't been so composed and she was trained to be.

"Is that why we were called here?" Steve asked, trying so obviously to take it in his stride like Banner had.

"Partly." Fury gestured to the seats. Hill had taken the one opposite Phil at the end of the table, so that Fury's two top agents were nearest to him. Juliette and Steve sat between Natasha and Hill, facing Clint and then a few empty spaces isolating Banner and Stark. A screen came on in the wall; Fury stepped to one side to let them see it. At the same time Phil handed Clint a file, which he slid along to Banner.

"You're here so that we can tell you about the Avengers Initiative," elaborated Fury. On the screen was their little A logo.

"Yeah, bursting your bubble here, Nick, but we are the Avengers, we know about them," Stark called from his side of the room.

"Then you'll know who's meant to fill the empty chairs here." They stared at him, Stark open mouthed, Steve with a frown and Clint looking around at the unoccupied chairs in confusion.

"What?"

"You're not the only ones, Stark," Hill told him. "There are eight of you." Four Avengers looked at her in surprise.

**Just to clear it up, Natasha swore in Russian two chapters back, according to Google which I know isn't the best so if any of you can swear in Russian, please drop me a line.**


	11. 11 Phil

**Chapter Eleven**

******Phil** sighed, pressing the controls on the table in front of him.

"The Avengers Initiative was set up to collect the powerful individuals we thought would cooperate to protect the Earth. It wasn't ready to be put into action when Loki arrived, so we brought in everyone we could find. Namely you four," he explained calmly.

"No offence, Barton, but you weren't on the list," added Fury. Phil saw the girls opposite him stiffen slightly, ready to defend their partner. "You have, however, earned your place."

"Thank you, sir," Clint mumbled, getting a reassuring nod from the Captain. Phil was unprofessionally proud of the archer, as the only non-engineered human on the team he had fought to get there and had to fight to stay with them. If Captain America thought he deserved to be on a superhero team, Phil couldn't give Clint any higher praise.

"Greyhound, Hemlock and Jupiter?" Stark asked with a still hostile glare. "Never heard of them." He was angry, Phil could see, although exactly at what he couldn't pin down. Maybe it was anger at them having lied to him, but Stark knew they wouldn't hesitate before keeping him in the dark. They had, however, gotten an emotional reaction out of him, first grief then the shock. Tony Stark didn't do emotional reactions.

Banner caught Phil's eye, pushing the files away with an odd expression. He had known, somehow that Phil wasn't dead, and now he knew about the missing Avengers too. As if having a group of superheroes wasn't enough trouble, they were all also freakishly intelligent.

"Project Greyhound," Fury began. "Was set up alongside Project Ion." Phil and Juliette glanced back and Banner who was staring at the table, his hands twiddling themselves nervously. "The results were Greyhound, and the Incredible Hulk." On the screen appeared a photograph of a man of a similar age to Banner, thin, pale and blond where Banner was dark. Everyone else had turned to look and Banner now, Stark had come to sit by his friend in support.

"Adam Davies was genetically engineered to have the useful attributes of several animals. Notably the hearing and sense of smell of a hunting dog," Phil told them. "The final report was that the enhancements were successful, with undisclosed side effects." Davies' actual condition was unknown; Natasha had met him briefly but been unable to find out anything of real value. Except that they had found him. Which was more than they had for the other two.

"Another Hulk?" the Captain asked.

"No, Greyhound tried genetics instead of radiation," Banner answered him, still staring down at the table. "They were more successful."

"Okay, so what's this got to do with us?" asked Stark, not bothering to read the file.

"Greyhound was intended as one of the Avengers, and would have been had we located him earlier," Phil told him. He had tried, with Fury sending Clint away to watch the Tesseract and Juliette technically not being cleared to know anything his progress had been slow.

"So he missed the boat, so what? We kicked ass without him, or these other two." Phil sighed, wondering why Stark had to be such a pain.

"Now we've found him, and we're going to bring him in," answered Fury. "You might have worked without these people, but we need to stop them becoming the enemies you fight against. They have skill sets that are useful; we would rather have these people on our side."

The Avengers were silent for a moment, weighing it up.

"Who are the other two?" Clint asked after a moment. Phil wished he could have told Clint more, for him to have known as much as Natasha did.

"Hemlock." Fury nodded to the screen and as a logo appeared next to the bio in place of a photo. "The only successful product of the Horizon Initiative, run by private individuals with initial funding from the Soviet government."

"Red Room?" Phil cursed Stark and his big mouth, glancing at Tasha.

"No. Exactly what Hemlock can do isn't clear, only that the KGB sought to eliminate her because they saw her as too big a threat," said Juliette, and Phil caught the briefest touch she gave Tasha's arm. "It's more a pre-emptive; she won't be a threat to us if she's an Avenger."

"Anyone named after a planet is going to be an alien." Phil almost smiled at Stark's sour mutter.

"You know about as much as we do then," he told the genius. "Which is why they weren't called to fight Loki, we couldn't find them."

"Aliens attacking New York, wasn't hard to miss," countered Stark. "If they were going to help us, they would have turned up."

"Not everyone has access to the news." Stark glared at the Captain for that.

"You want us to find them," a soft voice said. Banner had finally looked up at them. "That's it; you want us to bring them in." Fury gave him a careful nod.

Phil had put all his bets on Greyhound. Of the three he was the one they had focused on finding. He had managed to override Fury who would have preferred to find Jupiter first. Greyhound was a more moderate version of Banner. Phil shared Tasha and Juliette's views that if they lost Banner now, they would never get him back once he disappeared.

"No way, we're all the team you need, we proved that. We're not going on a wild goose chase for people you get touchy about." Stark was not on their side.

"I agree with Stark." Phil's heart fell as the Captain sided against them. "This team works, why include more, volatile people? By all means find them and ask, but this is the team that fought Loki, not them." He didn't trust them, Phil realised: they had shaken the Captain's faith in them by the fake death. Now, he wanted his team to be distinctly different from SHIELD. It didn't matter what the others thought, it was the Captain and Stark who held the deciding votes.

"If that's your position..." Fury hesitated, waiting for them to change their minds. They didn't. "Then we will keep you informed." That was their cue to to leave, Stark marching out, still sending them death glares. He stopped just as he reached the door.

"You bloody go and stop Pepper grieving," he spat at Phil. That did hurt a little, Pepper was sweet and Phil hadn't meant to hurt a civilian. He gave Stark an almost bashful nod. Then the genius left, followed by the Captain who gave them all a disappointed glance. At Fury's nod Clint went with them, holding the door open for Banner.

"Mar- Agent Hill, can I speak to you for a second?" the Doctor asked quietly. He took Hill to one corner of the room, everyone else looking away politely, except Hawkeye who watched them intently. Phil collected up the files and turned the screen off, catching sight of Hill nodding reluctantly. Banner left quickly after that.

"They took it well," Juliette said with forced optimism.

"We've lost Rogers' blind trust." Tasha cut them all down, drawing absently on the table with her finger.

"What did Banner want?" asked Fury.

"To know if Greyhound would come in willingly." They had Banner, Phil realised in surprise. The one Avenger who never unpacked because he was always ready to run, who hated anything go do with the organisation that had betrayed him, agreed with them in bringing the others in. That was unexpected.

"If we persuade him," Natasha answered quietly.


	12. 12 Clint

**Chapter Twelve**

**Clint** sat on the roof, a bottle of water in his hand as he watched the planes come into JFK in the distance.

The Avengers no longer trusted SHIELD, and to some extent the agents on their team. Tony was still refusing to even mention Phil and Juliette hadn't come back to the tower since the meeting. It was only after a long explanation of exactly when Clint and Natasha had been told that convinced Stark to let them off the hook, partially. Pepper of course was torn between being delightfully happy and as mad as hell at Phil, and all of them. She hadn't seen him yet, they were giving the team time to cool off before Phil turned up at the tower.

It was the Captain that made Clint feel like the liar he was trained to be. The image of everything good and heroic was angry at them for lying, for breaking his trust too many times. Admittedly Fury and Steve hadn't gotten off on the right foot but there had been a time when that looked like it wouldn't matter and the leader of the Avengers was loyal to SHIELD. Now, Fury had broken that trust.

Clint was caught in the middle, understanding and having complete empathy with his teammates in their anger at Fury, but being part of SHIELD as well. The whole idea of the Avengers was to build a team of people SHIELD couldn't control to do the fighting for them, and the influence Fury had maintained was remarkable considering Stark and Banner's hatred for authority. Clint was not looking forward to the day when Steve and Fury would give him two different commands. Natasha had enough confidence to go against them both, but Clint was an agent and he obeyed orders.

"Are you out here?" a soft voice asked from the door below. Bruce wandered out, looking around for him. Clint saw that he had been spotted within seconds but Bruce was polite.

"Thanks for the option of not answering," said Clint as he jumped down. "What's up?"

"You wouldn't have any way to contact Agent Hill, do you? SHIELD doesn't exactly give out a list of phone numbers." Clint kept his face blank even though he felt like giving Bruce a steely glare for little or no reason. Juliette had practically forced Maria to go to the masked ball with Bruce; he was presuming a bit too much to keep trying to contact her.

"She didn't give you her number at the ball then?" he asked, a little too harshly to be playful. Bruce looked surprised at that and shook his head with a faint blush. "I'll ask her how she'd rather you contacted her."

"Thanks, sorry to disturb you." Bruce gave him an awkward smile and retreated indoors quickly. Clint chose to be annoyed by his polite self-effacing nature instead of liking it. Bruce had hung around after the meeting with Phil to ask Maria something, when it hadn't been the best time, after leaving her on her own for most of the ball.

"Someone's getting protective," Natasha smirked, having somehow appeared out of nowhere. "Really, Clint, she is your superior."

"Don't you have people to kill or something?" he asked her with a snap, climbing back up to his position on the ledge.

"You could have just given him the link to her private line, you know, and let her decide if she wants him to have her number or not." Clint really didn't want Natasha there right then, and was only grateful that Juliette hadn't appeared as well.

"Excuse me for being the secretive spy." Natasha was staring at him, hands on hips with a look that was one inch away from laughing.

"You're jealous. You like her. That's pathetic, Clint."

"Aren't you the supportive best friend," he muttered. "And no, I just think that maybe Banner isn't exactly..."

"Jealous, I thought so. Shall I come back when you've stopped being immature?"

"Please leave indefinitely then." With one soft chuckle she turned on her heel and left. Clint stared resolutely out at the planes, wondering if the wall behind him would be so obliging as to swallow him whole. Maria was pretty, he conceded, especially in her ball gown, and Bruce was definitely not going about the whole thing as Clint thought he ought to.

"Damnit." The planes continued to land, oblivious to him and the wall was uncooperative.

Clint had no choice but to ask Hill permission to give Banner her line, with Natasha around not doing so would prove her right beyond any doubts.

"Of course, Barton. I'll do it myself," Hill answered when he called through. She was brief, gone as soon as his question was answered. Clint stared at the speaker for half a moment before getting up. Since when had he thought about Hill like that? She had been around for years, since he had come to SHIELD, so why the change? The answer walked in the door, red curls and all.

"Come spar with me," Natasha said. Clint followed, happily blaming her completely.

"Banner and I are leaving tomorrow," she said as they took their places opposite each other in the gym.

"Greyhound?" asked Clint, blocking her kick. "Stark and Steve said they weren't welcome." He flipped her over his hip, catching her fist before it collided with his shoulder blade.

"You weren't listening. Stark said they weren't welcome, Steve gave us permission to ask. Bruce is coming to make sure we ask nicely." She twisted out of his headlock, pushing his halfway across the room before she landed squarely behind him.

"Am I to work on changing their minds?" She landed a kick on his knee and he forced her to jump back to avoid breaking her foot.

"Phil wants to at least get to the point where the original initiative could be a possibility."

Their arms locked together as Clint's knee hit the floor. Natasha rolled over him, springing up quicker than he could. He opted for landing a low punch in her stomach instead, giving him time to jump up.

"That's a yes then."

**That is it for this one. There will be a second part, possibly tomorrow or at least some time this week: The Original Initiative: Project Greyhound. Thanks to all those who reviewed this one, I hope you like the next one too. This was more of setting the scene, rather than actually anything happening, sorry.**


End file.
